


half light

by isntitbromantic (thepoeticnerd)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Bottom Wade Wilson, Communication Is Key and these two don't even know where the lock is, M/M, Top Peter Parker, but spideypool is endgame don't you fret, even though they kiss pretty near the beginning, like really slowburn, oh yeah also their ages are slightly modified bc this is my fic i do what i want, peters 24 wade is 29, slowburn, tags tba if i think of something else i need to tag, there will be slight spideytorch and cablepool at one point, these two boys are disasters, theyve still got a while to go before they establish a healthy relationship, this is a spideypool story i promise, wade is submissive in bed you cowards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-06-07 16:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15223019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepoeticnerd/pseuds/isntitbromantic
Summary: Peter doesn't like Deadpool. How could he? The man is a cold-blooded murderer, completely off his rocker, and an incessant flirt. Nevertheless, the merc keeps showing up in Queens. Peter should probably figure out why before- oh crap there he is again. See ya!





	1. aladdin wallets (and other things that don't have money)

**Author's Note:**

> so my good friend and i were talking about spideypool and how we wished more fics addressed the complicated relationship they have in canon AND had a long exploration of feelings AND had an eventual happy ending. and then we listened to a song. This Happened.
> 
> (apologies for the switches in POV, this was originally an RP and we felt that the Inner Thoughts were worth the slight awkwardness of POV switches)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, this was a case in point. Bad luck: he had been on his way to his favorite taco truck in NYC as a reward for finishing up a particularly tough job (no really, he still had some blood on his suit), when he'd passed a mugging in progress. And the victim was a kid. Seriously? Who mugs kids? What are they expecting to get from a snot-nosed 8th grader with a fucking Aladdin wallet? It's not like the kid's gonna be carrying around an engraved money clip or some shit like that. He heaved a huge sigh, and went to unsheathe his katanas, before...good luck! He caught sight of a flash of red and blue from a building a block away.

Spidey-time was getting hard to schedule out, lately. Meetings were 'just as important as saving NYC from the newest low budget baddie', as he was kindly reminded, and he really did love his job- But sometimes he just needed a break from trying to change the world by trying to save the world. He really needed a calmer hobby. Knitting, maybe. He could probably make some kickass scarves. Maybe from webbing? He shook his head. To be honest, the main attraction of getting to hang around as Spider-Man was more than just saving the day. It was about the little moments. Hanging halfway off the side of a building to toss a few crumbs at the grackles strutting around on the detailing of an apartment building below him, half-wondering if he should head home sooner rather than waiting until the fine hour of one am to call it quits and admit it was a quiet night. Getting to be someone else and change his worries completely, if only for whatever time he could spare. He pulled himself up onto the ledge of the building he was perched on, just to get a better look at the city. It really was peaceful up here, as crazy as that was. There was the slow shift of building lights being turned on, there was the usual clatter and clamor of the street, and there was- Jesus Christ. Peter slipped back down his makeshift hammock down the side of the building, squinting down at the street. There was no fucking way Deadpool had found him at eight at night in the middle of the city. Did Deadpool even exist in the evenings? It shouldn't be right for families to be having a nice dinner with some merc yelling about his lack of junk in the trunk post-one explosion or another. What was Peter supposed to do, wave?

***

Wade Wilson couldn't decide if his luck was the worst or the best on the planet. Seriously, he was always getting into trouble that ended up benefiting him in some way (though usually not before unaliving some people along the way). He'd asked Domino if it was her doing - that maybe her luck was rubbing off on him "like a chimney sweep from Mary Poppins!", and had gotten a broken nose for his troubles. He pouted to himself. Just because his broken bones would heal in a few minutes didn't mean that everyone should go around breaking his bones!

Anyway, this was a case in point. Bad luck: he had been on his way to his favorite taco truck in NYC as a reward for finishing up a particularly tough job (no really, he still had some blood on his suit), when he'd passed a mugging in progress. And the victim was a kid. Seriously? Who mugs kids? What are they expecting to get from a snot-nosed 8th grader with a fucking Aladdin wallet? It's not like the kid's gonna be carrying around an engraved money clip or some shit like that. He heaved a huge sigh, and went to unsheathe his katanas, before...good luck! He caught sight of a flash of red and blue from a building a block away. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yelled, "YO! WEBS! Good to see you around, Spidey!" Hearing this, the would-be mugger looked up in panic. He didn't get the chance to see much, other than a leather-clad fist heading towards his face at extreme velocity. There was an audible crunch, and the dude crumpled, nose gushing blood. Wade turned his head to the kid, who was staring wide-eyed at him. "What's up, kid? Y'know, you should probably get out of here. Maybe don't take this route home anymore." The kid nodded, still staring.

"Are you friends with Spider-Man?" they asked.

Wade blinked. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I heard you yell his name, and I think he's coming over this way. When you live in Queens, you get used to the sound that Spider-Man's webs make, so you can get out of the way when he's swinging."

Wade grinned. "He's coming this way?" The kid nodded. "Well then, kid, I am absolutely a friend of Spider-Man's. You could say we're besties, in fact!" He looked up, and was rewarded with a view of a familiar red and blue suit, white eyes narrowed at him. "Now, you better be on your way, kid. Wouldn't want you to get hurt out here. Get home." The kid scampered off, and Wade sent a winning smile Spidey's way.

***

Considering all Peter saw was an exaggerated wave and an equally exaggerated punching motion, he figured it was just about time to swing on over there and make sure nothing above average in terms of problems was going on. By the time he got his footing on an awning, he couldn’t help but feel- Well, kinda grateful. He didn’t even pass this way to go home, he would never have seen this poor kid get the living daylights scared out of them, and he definitely wouldn’t have been there to catch the mugger doing the scaring.

That gratefulness vanished real quick. He wasn’t about to crouch down to eye level with the kid and gently explain, “No, you see, I’m trying really hard not to get close to this guy. It’s harder than you think, but a murderer’s a murderer, right? You run on home, now.” He wasn’t about to make the poor kid hang around just so he could watch Spider-Man chew out Deadpool for two sentences. 

Instead, he just stepped off the overhang, narrowing his eyes at Deadpool as he grabbed the mugger’s collar and hefted him up to be safety webbed against the side of the alley. Peter’s sour expression faltered when the guy groaned something about ‘fuckin’ fruits in spandex’, though. Enough to look past the dumb smile Deadpool was trying to flash under his mask.  
“You didn’t kill him,” he said, surprised, and then surprised that he was surprised. Not killing someone should be the lowest of low bars, right? “I think this is the first time you haven’t killed a guy messing with a kid.” He futzed around with one of his web shooters for a second, holding an arm out to Deadpool. “C’mere. I think we need to talk about why you keep showing up within a hundred foot radius of me. Did the restraining order expire already?” he deadpanned, holding Deadpool around the waist and trying to double check that no bones would be broken in the event of liftoff. It’d happened before and Peter wasn’t exactly eager to hear that sound again. At least as he swung them back up to Peter’s web-made rooftop hangout, there wasn’t much trouble in that realm. Which meant Peter could get back to making his suspicion very evident.

“There’s no way you keep getting jobs in Queens. Or in New York proper, for that matter.” He pulled up his hammock, twisting it up into a ball just to have something to mess with. “Don’t you have other people to murder?” Peter set the thing like a volleyball and few times, trying to make the distaste less evident in his voice. He was trying to talk, after all. “But you’ve been hanging around here for months, now. What gives?”

***

Wade couldn't keep the grin off of his face as Spider-Man offered him a hand. "My prince in silky armor," he swooned, smiling cheekily at the look of apparent disgust on Spidey's face. "And I know for a fact that you'd never take out a restraining order on me. See, I don't have a secret identity, so there's no trouble actually filing one against me, but then you'd have to use your civilian name to file the report, 'cause Spider-Man can't actually file legal complaints. And since I would inevitably get a letter letting me know who exactly to stay away from, your secret identity would become not so secret!" What? He knew stuff. Sometimes it was fun to quip back at people while actually using his brain, just to shake things up.

"As for why I didn't kill him, I'm pretty sure it's considered rude to kill people on Spidey turf. You're so incessant about being a good guy, I figured you wouldn't want my rep tarnishing your street cred. He was just a mugger, anyhow. Not really worthy of a skewering." Wade shrugged, avoiding eye contact with Spiderman in fear of the disapproving face he'd see. "I actually just finished a job. The dude was practicing some......shall we say unorthodox experiments with some less than willing patients, so that had to stop. I had to go deep cover to actually get to the person responsible for the experiments. There's no point in murdering the minions and letting the head honcho get away. Minions are so easy to replace! He would have had a new lab set up somewhere more secure, and then I would have had to go through the whole business all over again." He shrugged. "'S all over and done with, now. He won't be making any new baddies for you to deal with." He laughed, a tinge of bitterness around the edges. "I'll be out of your web soon enough, baby boy. I just wanted to grab some tacos for the road."

Suddenly, his face brightened. "Say, Webs, wanna join me? I promise you, they're the best tacos in all of New York. Plus, the owner loves me. I helped her out a couple of years ago, and she hasn't let me pay since." He winked at Spidey. "That doesn't stop me from leaving a wad of cash in her tip jar every time I stop by, though." He gave the hero the best puppy-dog eyes he could muster, pouting through his mask all the while. "Pleaaaaaaaaaaaase? I'll pay for the food and everything! I got 50k for this last job, so I won't make you cough up any cash."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's peter's answer going to be? tune in next time for another episode of Disaster Gays
> 
> you get 100 points and my undying respect if you caught the john mulaney reference
> 
> kudos and comments water my crops and feed the flames of my motivation


	2. taco prostitution (and other things that are not exactly off the table)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter was absentmindedly folding a napkin into a cup, just to have something for his hands to do as he settled down- But, naturally, sat up straighter in preparation for further money arguments the second Deadpool refused. And then straightened up again to argue against possible taco prostitution. With full knowledge that for these tacos, and with someone like Deadpool who he (kind of, sort of) trusted, taco prostitution was not exactly off the table. Definitely not off the table. Wait, fuck, Deadpool was still talking and Peter was still thinking about getting laid. And Wade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......okay it's been six months, i'm really sorry
> 
> but here have a doubly long update to make up for it (hopefully)
> 
> (again, apologies for the switches in POV, this was originally an RP and we felt that the Inner Thoughts were worth the slight awkwardness of POV switches)
> 
> also, important note: _italics_ is Wade's white box, **bold** is his yellow box

Deadpool's snark actually coaxed a laugh out of Peter. Not even a sarcastic one, just genuine enjoyment of the idea that he’d give up his identity just to flip Deadpool off from afar instead of up close and personal. He made some interesting company every once in a while, at least Peter could admit that. “You got me there. Can’t have people knowing I don’t always wear red and blue. I’ve got a brand name to protect, after all.” He tossed the ball of webbing to Deadpool, mostly just to have an excuse to turn and search his expression. Kinda hard to do with the masks and all, but- He looked like he was being serious. Actually being serious about not killing people. Fancy that.  
  
“Well, thank you. Seriously. I’m a fan of the whole ‘turning a new leaf if and only if in Spider-Man’s part of town’ thing you’ve got going on.” He cleared his throat, opting to just let Deadpool talk instead of trying to but in every five seconds to try and make it clear he’d been meaning to go get dinner for hours now. Deadpool talked a lot. And Peter didn’t mind, weirdly enough. He usually zoned out about halfway through stuff like this. Handy for sitting semi-politely through keynote speaker’s talks, not so great for trying to pick up the important bits of villainous monologues. Not that Deadpool was a villain. Was he? Anyone who killed people was a villain, for sure, but if villains killed other worse villains, that technically lowered the amount of villainy in the world, and- Wait, was he zoning out thinking about how it was easier not to zone out with Deadpool? Fuck. “Wait, tacos? Yes, to the tacos. You don’t even need to pull, uh...” He made a loose gesture at Deadpool’s whole pouting extraordinaire look. “Whatever you’ve got going on there. I’ve been meaning to grab dinner for _ages._ ”

*******

"-I'll even buy you churros if you like them- wait did you just say yes?" Wade blinked, dropping his pout. "Uh. Holy shit. You sure, Webs? Not like you to actually want to be seen with" -he gestured to himself- "impolite company. Dang. If I'd known tacos would get you to hang out with me, I would have asked sooner!" He tossed the ball of webbing idly between his hands, squishing and stretching it in a vain attempt to disguise his nervousness. Oh fuck. Spider-Man was going to hang out with him. What had he gotten himself into.  
  
_Wilson, you've dug yourself into some pretty deep holes, but this has gotta be one of the worst._  
  
**Congrats, you've officially broken the record for how badly you can screw yourself over. You've had the hots for this nerd ever since you saw that ass in spandex, and his tolerance for you is already at its breaking point. There is no way you're making it through this impromptu dinner without saying something to irrevocably fuck all of it up.**  
  
_"Shut up,"_ Wade hissed at the boxes. "Unless you want to make me look crazier than normal?"  
  
_...Fine._  
  
**No promises.**

Wade plastered on a grin that was a couple magnitudes cheerier than his actual mood. "Okay, baby boy, so since I can't actually pull your whole acrobat schtick, no matter how similar our costumes may be, you're gonna have to walk with me for a little bit. Luckily, it's close by! Swear to God, Bugs, you're not gonna regret this. They _hand-fry their chips._ And make their own tortillas! Just ignore the bullet holes in the side, that's a souvenir from the first time I went there. I promise it's not frequented by drug lords. Well, not anymore at least." He slung an arm around Spidey's shoulders, noting the height difference. "Hey, Webs, I'm taller than you! Wow, I never knew. If you can believe it, it's hard to tell how tall you are when you're doing flips above skyscrapers." Oh god, he was rambling. He silently willed himself to shut up and try not to annoy his companion. "Anyway! It's this way!" He indicated a direction, and starts walking, arm still around Spidey.

*******

“I’m sure. One hundred percent, definitely sure. I’m fucking _starving._ ” Hell, he was already checking and double checking that he could pull his mask up for some secret identity protecting dinner plans without his hair showing. It was bad enough Deadpool had seen essentially all the rest of him (Tears in the suit and a few more disgusting fights required some emergency wash downs, what could he say? It wasn’t like he minded a few comments about his ass. Compliments were compliments.) so he wasn’t about to show off his face and just cross his fingers that taco noshing was enough to distract from that. “I mean, as long as you’re still offering.”  
  
Peter offered a quick grin back as he readjusted his mask, still a touch confused as to why he was actually smiling. Knowing Deadpool, this could just as likely end in a shoot-out as with a couple solid tacos in hand. But then again, the point needed to be restated: There was still a chance of food.  
  
“I’m fine walking. It’ll give me a better chance to not miss an entire mugging going on not more than fifty yards away from me. Jesus. Thanks again for taking care of that.” He still grimaced the second an arm was wrapped around his shoulders, though. “But _not_ thankful enough for that. I’m fine with being seen with you, not necessarily fine with being trapped by your arm.” Still, he walked a good ways before he ducked out of the hold, shrugging his shoulder up as defense for a second. “No offense to you or your arm. Just don’t like being caught up in anything just in case my Spidey senses decide to freak me out. Tell me about what you do when you’re not taking jobs or frequenting food trucks, how about that?”

*******

Oh god, abort mission, code red, Spidey was shooting him an actual grin with his real actual mouth and wow, okay, Wade needed to stop looking at Spider-Man's mouth because holy shit lips _should not be allowed to look that kissable._ He coughed, and silently thanked whoever was writing this particular interaction that they'd written him with his mask on.  
  
When Spidey shrugged out of his hold, Wade felt a small drop in his stomach. Of course, when Spidey explained why, he started mentally berating himself.  
  
**Wow. Nice going.**  
  
_You made him feel trapped, you ignoramus. That's the opposite of what we're trying to do._

Wade groaned. Sometimes he really, really, _really_ hated his fucking boxes. He snapped back when he realized Spidey had asked him a question. "What do I do for fun, you mean? Well, it depends on the day! Sometimes I play video games! I could totally kick your ass at Street Fighter. And Mario Kart. _No one_ beats me at Mario Kart. I think it's cause I always play as a princess. Who do you main?" He thought for a second. "I also really like Broadway. Auditioned for Kinky Boots once, and even the director said she'd never seen anyone rock the heels like I did. Plus, my ass looks great in a dress." His voice softened for a second. "Sometimes I go visit hospitals. Ever heard of the Make A Wish program? I'm sure you have, you must get tons of requests from kids. Surprisingly, your boy here gets a couple too. Met this kid once, she was in a building during a fire. Her face was covered in bandages. I could barely see her eyes. She asked to see my scars. So I showed her. Took off the mask and everything. She didn't even flinch. She just ran her fingers along a couple ridges and said that she hoped she would be as pretty as me when her bandages came off." Wade was quiet for a couple seconds.  
  
_You know he's going to think you're making that up, right?_  
  
**God, could you be any more obvious about how badly you wanna get in his pants? Yeah, sure, the same person who murders for a living visits hospitals and comforts little kids. He's gonna think you're a bigger liar than OJ fucking Simpson.**  
  
Wade didn't respond. He hadn't actually meant to share that little anecdote. It had just.....slipped out. Damn. He was way too comfortable around Webs. They turned a corner, and Wade sighed in relief. "Here we are, Webs! The best tacos in New York City!" The two stood in front of a small, neon yellow taco truck, from which heavenly smells were emanating.

*******

Peter was quick to jump on the subject of video games. That was easier than actually acknowledging Deadpool’s pretty clearly self-loathing groan. Peter was essentially a master at self-loathing groans when things came down to it, he could recognize upset when he saw it. And he did _not_ want to talk about anything even nearing personal touchy-feely shit before he ate. Bad for digestion, or something.  
  
“I think I’d give you a run for your money on the Mario Kart front. I main Shy Guy. Not really the coolest character, but I’m a fan of the mask. You’d probably win in Street Fighter, though. I suck those kinds of fighting games, the button mashing mixed with the frustration drives me up the wall. Possible literally? Depends how quick I want to get away from having to play another round,” he joked lightly, bumping Deadpool’s shoulder a little with his own. Trying to prove that he wasn’t completely adverse to any contact, just not a fan of anything that could hinder him from spooking away if need be. Which was most contact, come to think of it. Shit.  
  
“Broadway, though? I mean, I tried to try out for school plays a few times, if that counts. I think lighting is more my speed.” And Peter found himself trying to divert the conversation again. _Don’t make a comment about Deadpool in a dress. Definitely don’t think about how those legs would look in getup like that._ Thank god he had his mask pulled down again. The red of his suit was pretty fucking apt right now. Since when did he get this openly flustered about _Deadpool,_ anyway? Probably when he admitted to himself that big and muscular was a good look on him. Shit, part two of many.

Peter went quiet at the next topic of conversation, though. Yeah, sure, maybe he did falter for a second at the idea of Deadpool being that vulnerable, but there was vulnerability in him just admitting that. “That’s good of you,” he said, voice taking on the warm, careful tone he usually tried to save for talking to kids. And dates. He was trying not to think about that. “I can’t really do much that comforting. I just talk with the kids, do some tricks for them, make sure they know they’ve got a big strong superhero looking out for them. That sort of stuff.”  
  
They turned the corner. Peter had never been that glad to see a faded menu in his life.  
“Holy shit,” he sighed, just about gravitating into line. “It smells like someone gave their soul to make killer tacos. It smells like they’ve been blessed by taco gods. I-” He patted himself down, half-expecting pockets to be readily available. “I don’t have my wallet. I know they’re technically free, I heard you, but I _did_ really want to leave a tip, uh… I owe you one? Remind me to pay you back?”  

*******

“I maintain that maining a princess is the only way to truly dominate at Mario Kart,” Wade said. "But if you want, I could give you a few Deadpool-Certified Street Fighter Tips. It's actually not all button mashing, it's possible to get really good with combos and stuff. Your reflexes would actually lend itself really well to it!" Spidey bumped his shoulder affectionately, and Wade froze.  
  
_Not that you've spent a lot of time thinking about what else his reflexes would be useful for._  
  
**C’mon, White, don’t pussyfoot around it. Wade here wants that boy to fuck him till he’s seeing stars.**  
  
Oh man, Deadpool really, really, really, really hated his boxes. Really. Those thoughts were for the shower, not for when Spidey was standing LITERALLY RIGHT NEXT TO HIM. Were they just straight up trying to kill him before he even got half a chance with Webs? As they rounded the corner, he heard Spidey inhale deeply, then let out a deep, pleased sigh.  
  
**Wonder if he’d make noises like that for us.**  
  
One of these days, Deadpool was going to put a bullet in his brain and it was going to stick, goddammit.  
  
Wade was quickly distracted by Spidey’s flailing hands as he tried to assure Deadpool that he’d “pay him back”. Wade tsk'd disapprovingly. "First of all: this is why you have pouches on your suit! It's functional and aesthetic. And second, I told you, baby boy, I got this. I'm not letting you pay for shit. I'm going to leave them a tip, anyway. You don't owe me anything, and I'm sure as shit not taking your money. I just told you, I made 50k for this last job. Being a merc pays well, and being a superhero doesn't." He rubbed his hands together, putting on a show of indecision at the sight of the menu. As soon as he opened his mouth to order, a voice echoed from the belly of the truck.

"WADE WILSON!" the voice screeched. "HOW DARE YOU NOT VISIT ME FOR THREE MONTHS!" The back of the truck opened, and the tiniest woman that either of them had ever seen hurtled out of the doors and straight towards the Merc with a Mouth. She pointed a finger at him disapprovingly. “You know you are supposed to come and check in with me so that I can feed you, yes?” Wade held up his hands in mock surrender.  
  
“What do you think I’m doing here, ma’am?” he asked, with the barest hint of a grin under his mask.  
  
“Stop calling me ma’am, you know it makes me feel old,” she chided. “My name is Elena, as you very well know. And YOU!” She turned her attention to Spider-Man. “Who is in charge of giving you food? You are as thin as a twig!” Wade laughed, unable to hold back his amusement at seeing Spidey chastised by someone half his size. “No matter. Come with me, I will fix enough food for you both.” She puttered back to the truck, and Wade gestured to a nearby unoccupied picnic table.  
  
“C’mon. This is where I always sit when I come here.”

*******

Peter was trying to convey as much disapproval as possible through the mask, in terms of fashion, having to let someone else pay, and general mercenary work. There was a lot to unpack there. He was trying to leave the whole ‘baby boy’ thing untouched for the moment, though.

  
“Yeah, I’m not that eager to get your general ‘Chewbacca’s bandolier times ten’ look you’ve got going on. But hold on, I’m _going_ to pay you back, I’ve got a job. Just ‘cause I don’t make a small fortune per person killed doesn’t mean I’m entirely broke. Being a superhero doesn’t pay well, having a day job at least kinda does.”  
  
He was about to argue his point further, (while eyeing the menu like it held the key to eternal life, of course) but he didn’t mind the interruption. Anything to see Deadpool being chewed out for a second. ‘Wade Wilson’, though. That was new info. He kinda wanted to make a joke about the whole alliteration thing. What were the chances, right? Wade Wilson, Peter Parker, they sounded like the first half of a band name.

He put his hands up in mock-surrender when Elena turned to him, though. He was trying not to grin, but Wade’s laugh was almost infectious, and the sentiment was echoing his aunt perfectly.  
  
“I get that a lot. But thank you, everything here smells great. We really appreciate this,” he said, half being polite and half trying to make up for the lack of money changing hands. The sun had fully set by now, but the taco truck had enough light to make the general area all golden in the night, and Peter was half-aware that Wade’s voice matched the tone of the light. Well, he was fully aware of it and half disgusted that he was getting all sappy about a killer’s voice. Was this what someone buying him food did to him? He’d really have to double down on definitely paying on dates.  
  
He grabbed them a few napkins from the truck before settling down on the bench, offering a few over to Deadpool. Wade. It really was a weird name.

  
“If you give me a pen, I’ll write up some kind of IOU about the tip,” he offered. “But I might take you up on that. Uh, the The Street Fighter assistance. But I dunno about the maining princesses. I don’t think I could do Daisy justice. I’m not really the ‘princess that Nintendo says is a tomboy with little given evidence’ type. You seem more like a Princess Peach guy, though.”

*******

Wade watched Spidey look around at the park, drenched in the early evening light. He couldn’t help but wonder how the hero was feeling about this whole outing. Sure, it seemed like he was tolerating Wade, but Spidey was notoriously private. Maybe Wade had pushed him too far too fast? God, he hoped not. This was one of the best afternoons he’d had in months. He sat down on the bench at the table, Spidey sliding in next to him.  
  
“I do, in fact, have a pen,” Wade said, producing said writing implement from yet another pouch. “However, I’m not letting you write me an IOU for money. I have more than I need, and I don’t care how well your day job pays, I’m not letting you spend money on me.” He winked. “Buuuuut…..I do know something _else_ you could write me an IOU for……..” He paused for a moment. “Don’t give me that look, Spidey, I’m not that much of a scumbag. I was gonna say you could write me an IOU for said video game hangout time. Y’know, voucher style. The holder of this napkin is entitled to one whole afternoon of hanging out with Spider-Man.” He gestured. “You get the idea.”  
  
_He totally thought you meant sex._  
  
**Now Spidey knows you wanna bang like a screen door in a hurricane. If I had hands, I’d be slow clapping.**

“ANYWAY,” Wade raised his voice slightly to drown out the boxes, “I don’t actually main the OG Princess, though she is a badass and can totally kick ass on the track.  My princess of choice is one Princess Rosalina. She showed up in Super Mario Galaxy, one of the _best_ Mario games of all time, she’s easily the least appreciated princess even though she’s amazing, and she made her own family of little baby stars because…well it doesn’t really matter why. She’s just the best.” Wade crossed his arms and nodded. 

“Boys?” Elena called from the truck. “I have your food!” She stepped out of the truck gingerly, carrying two trays loaded down with everything you could possibly order from the truck. It smelled like heaven had gotten high and made the best fried food in the universe.  
  
“Holy motherfucking Christ,” Wade moaned. “Elena, you’ve outdone yourself.”  
  
“Shut up, you silly man. It is the least I can do, if only for the sake of your friend here. He is starving to death, obviously.” She poked at Spider-Man’s ribs. “If you are ever hungry and in the neighborhood, come here, you hear me? Any friend of Wade Wilson’s is a friend of mine, and every friend of mine is subject to my cooking.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be a stranger, you hear?”

*******

Peter was absentmindedly folding a napkin into a cup, just to have something for his hands to do as he settled down- But, naturally, sat up straighter in preparation for further money arguments the second Deadpool refused. And then straightened up again to argue against possible taco prostitution. With full knowledge that for these tacos, and with someone like Deadpool who he (kind of, sort of) trusted, taco prostitution was not exactly _off_ the table. Definitely not off the table. Wait, fuck, Deadpool was still talking and Peter was still thinking about getting laid. And Wade. And Jesus Christ, was it so much more appealing to use a more natural name for this, and- Not _appealing,_ he couldn’t think of it that way, this was _work,_ this was a work relationship, this was a work dinner. Not a ‘become weirdly okay with the terms ‘getting laid’ and ‘Deadpool’ in the same general thought’ dinner.  
  
Peter caught onto the general topic of conversation after another weird moment of silence. He fumbled to fit in a quip, though.  
“Not scumbag enough to follow through with being a taco based sugar daddy? And I thought I knew you so well. But yeah, I’m down for some video game time. Here, lemme just-” Peter plucked the pen out from between Deadpool’s fingers, scribbling down a loose note on the cup he’d folded. He passed it over to Deadpool again, already nodding way too quick in agreement about princess discussion.

“Yeah, she’s got, like- A full of _story_ going on, she’s complex. No offence to Peach- Or Daisy, for that matter. But Rosalina’s the best out there. A mother figure, a all around good person, pretty much more powerful than- I dunno, God or something. If God and Rosalina had some kind of Super Smash Bros fight, God would surrender. Half because he knows his ass would get thoroughly kicked, half because no one with a shred of heart in them would hurt Rosalina. It’s not blasphemy if it’s the truth,” he decided. “And _that’s_ why I don’t buy into the whole- Oh, shit, _food._ ”  
  
He stood up and took a tray from Elena, trying to assist- And trying to oogle the food a second quicker. “Thank you so much, whoa. This is _amazing,_ Elena.” He passed the tray over to Wade so he wouldn’t drop it while being poked half to death, even if he was grinning nonetheless. “I might have to take you up on that. Consider me not a stranger anymore.” He took the other tray, sitting back down again and reaching over to try and get Deadpool’s wallet in case he hadn’t tipped yet. And forgetting that it was probably in one of the pouches. The good news was that he got a nice handful of Wade’s ass for a second, the bad news was everything else. And the fact that he considered it good news. He was all too happy to flash one last thankful, mortified grin at Elena and turn to his tacos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit peter touched the butt
> 
> i promise the next update won't take 6 months (it'll probably be in the next week/two weeks)
> 
> kudos and comments feed the flames of my motivation and will possibly inspire more Touching of Butts :3


End file.
